


Catalysts

by Kerkerian



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Banter, Caring Danny, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Ohana, Post-episode "Ua ola loko i ke aloha"/"Love Gives Life Within", Some Fluff, canon-typical danger, injuries, mcdanno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 12:56:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15864063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerkerian/pseuds/Kerkerian
Summary: Losing Aunt Deb is harder on Steve than he imagined. Of course, Danny is there for him; it's what best friends do, after all. Or so he tells himself. His sister however very much disagrees.





	Catalysts

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Five-0.

 

 

Steve hasn't had any time for himself ever since he told his sister that their aunt has passed away. Mary visibly tried to keep it together at first, but when the undertaker arrived to take the body away, she broke down completely, leaving Steve to additionally deal with her and Joanie, who was sensing that something was wrong and started to bawl on the top of her lungs.

And now it's eleven, the pancakes which are still sitting next to the stove have gone cold and Steve feels unhinged somehow, unable to believe that it really happened, that Deb is gone. It was a strangely peaceful moment, that little flutter of her hand before she closed her eyes for the last time, but that's just like his aunt: her timing has always been perfect. She knew when to wave goodbye.

The tears Steve's forcibly subdued all morning are now threatening to spill over, but he forces them down again; he doesn't want to cry, not now. Joanie and Mary have gone down to the beach to get some air, and Steve's grateful for the quiet; he couldn't hear himself think before.

With a trembling hand, he takes out his phone.

 

Half an hour later, the front door opens and Danny, Charlie and Grace peer in: “Steve?”

“Come in,” he calls from the kitchen. He's begun to tidy up, but somehow, it doesn't work: there's still flour on the worktop and a general mess.

His face falls a little when he hears the additional footsteps which mean Danny's brought his kids: Steve loves them, but he doesn't want them to be sad.

Grace however immediately charms away these qualms by just walking up to him and wrapping her arms around him: “I'm so sorry for your loss,” she says. “Aunt Deb was lovely, I'll never forget her.” Even though her eyes are swimming, she seems remarkably composed. Steve sometimes forgets all the things she's already been through herself and how strong she is, how grown-up.

He means to thank her for her kind words, but his voice gives out at the first syllable, so he just clings to her and allows his grief to overwhelm him for the first time on this day.

Charlie, who's holding Danny's hand, now pulls his dad over to Steve and Grace; Danny lifts him onto his hip so that he can join in on the hug, and Charlie winds his little arm around Steve's neck and gently pats his ear because he can't quite reach his face. Steve makes a small noise which sounds so wounded and desperate that Danny automatically moves even closer and wraps his free arm around his partner as well. Steve gratefully leans into their combined embraces, crying soundlessly.

They stay like that, huddled together, until Steve has calmed down somewhat. When they all pull back just enough to look at one another, Charlie is the only one who's got dry eyes. He regards Steve with an almost comically solemn expression: he doesn't know about death and loss yet, bless him, but he understands sadness and pain, and he loves his Uncle Steve. Who seems a little abashed now for breaking down like this, but then Grace stands on tiptoes and kisses him on both cheeks, visibly unfazed that they are still wet from his tears.

Charlie then leans forward and kisses Steve's nose: “It's okay to cry,” he says, at which Steve can't but laugh at little.

“He's right,” Danny now agrees softly; it's the first thing he's said at all. But then, that's Danny: when he's sad or something's weighing on him, he's becoming quiet. That's okay though, as long as he's here. He is rubbing gentle circles between Steve's shoulder blades with his hand now, and Charlie strokes Steve's face.

And Steve doesn't know how he's deserved this amazing little group of people, his logical family, but he's so ridiculously happy and grateful to have them that his eyes immediately well up once more.

“Thank you,” he manages nevertheless. “I love you guys.”

“I love you too, Stevie,” Charlie says.

“And I,” Grace smiles at him.

Danny's smile mirrors that of his daughter: “Can't help it, Babe.”

Steve pulls them closer for another hug, feeling a lot more composed by now.

Afterwards, things are kind of being taken out of his hands, which is a good thing for once. The Williamses go down to the beach to talk to Mary first; Grace and Charlie then stay with Joanie while Danny makes Mary and Steve settle down on the couch for a while; neither of them apparently has come to their senses until now, and he thinks they should be able to talk quietly and in private. So he cleans up the kitchen in the meantime, then goes to join the children outside.

Later, when Joanie's down for her afternoon nap and everyone's had some lunch, Danny helps the siblings to tackle the inevitable, such as the obituary. Steve's ever so glad that Danny's here, because neither Mary nor he are ready to accept the loss yet; it was only yesterday after all that Aunt Deb was singing along to the radio in the kitchen, that she kissed him goodnight with a smile.

As it occurs to him that she's the second person who died in this house, he almost breaks down again. But at least her death, unlike her brother's, was a peaceful one. Steve's thoughts keep reeling, filling his mind with memories which are as beautiful as they are painful. And he wonders if Deb's with their loved ones now, hopes that she is, because the notion that she just _ended_ is too difficult to bear. She was always vibrant in life; being still and silent just doesn't seem right for her.

Mary's pondering similar matters, wiping away some tears every now and then as they go through the folder Deb's left with them for exactly this. Knowing that this day would come doesn't make it easier, and Steve, who's felt unsettled ever since he's found the bucket list on the nightstand because his aunt's handwriting is still there but she'll never write anything again, is just grateful that Danny seems to sense his discomfort and simply reads her instructions to them.

 

That night, after he's taken the kids back to Rachel's, Danny returns to Piikoi Street to see how the McGarretts are doing; Mary has fallen asleep while putting Joanie to bed, but Steve's still up, sitting on one of the old chairs down by the water.

Danny takes two glasses and the bottle he's brought and joins his partner, who doesn't seem surprised that he's back: “Hey,” he says softly. Danny hands him the glasses: “How are you doing?”

“Tired,” Steve mutters. “What's this?”

“Scotch. Seriously awesome and ridiculously expensive. Reserved for special occasions.”

Danny sits down on the second chair and puts the bottle on the small table before he takes one of the glasses. For a moment, they just sit and look out over the moonlit ocean, then Steve raises his glass: “To Aunt Deb.”

“To Aunt Deb,” Danny echoes, and they clink.

“Thank you for everything,” Steve eventually says. “I don't know if I could've handled it without you.”

Danny regards him with a sad smile: “Yes, you could have. Maybe a little slower, but... you'd have managed.”

Steve sighs: “You think?”

“Yeah. I know you. You're stubborn.”

Steve gives an amused little snort: “Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

They are silent for a while, then Steve looks at Danny: “Thank you, Danno,” he just says again, his voice soft.

Danny shrugs: “It's what we do, right?”

“Yeah.” The corners of Steve's mouth quirk upwards ever so slightly.

 

The day of the funeral is overcast and grey, which seems to fit the occasion perfectly. Steve hates all of it, and he's just glad when they finally are back home and he can take off his suit. Mary and he are going to take their aunt's ashes up a mountain in order to fulfill the last wish on her bucket list, but not today. Therefore he feels unhinged again, wanting to do something useful and not knowing what.

He wishes Danny was here; it was utterly comforting to have him by his side during the service and the subsequent reception, and Steve is aware how much he was relying on his partner these past days. But then, Danny apparently didn't think twice about it either, simply did what needed doing without making a fuss. The rest of the team were there for Steve as well, in the equally quiet but given way that is typical for their ohana. Yet with Danny, it was different; he accompanied Mary and Steve to the funeral home, looked after Joanie while they packed up Deb's belongings and made sure they ate after that, came by early before the funeral to help Steve with the tie and brought Mary an extra packet of tissues, as though she was one of his sisters.

Lovely Danno, Steve now thinks, and for the first time today, he feels unexpectedly warm inside, as though everything was all right, as though he was happy about something. It's the feeling he's come to associate with Danny for some time now, but right now, it's more pronounced.

He'd love nothing more than go and be with him, escape the house for a while, but his team made it very clear that he isn't supposed to show his face at work today.

 

He nearly collides with his sister as he walks into the kitchen with his thoughts elsewhere: Mary hasn't changed out of her black dress yet, and she seems frail in it.

Steve takes a moment to look her over: “Have you eaten at all today?”

“Yes,” she says, a tad impatient, “I have.”

“You look starved.”

“I'm fine.”

“Why don't we go and have some shrimp?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, why not?”

“We just buried our aunt.” She blinks and quickly looks away as she says it, but he's already heard her voice breaking at the last words.

So he just steps closer and wraps his arms around her. She stiffens for a moment, but then she sags against him: “I don't want her to be gone,” she sobs, and Steve just holds her more tightly.

“Why don't we go down to the beach with Joanie?” he asks her gently once she's a little calmer. “Play in the shallows with her, just you and me?”

“I'd like that,” she says, hiccuping and wiping her eyes. Steve is forcefully reminded of the little girl she once was, and he feels a sudden rush of affection for her.

So they spend the afternoon at the beach, and Steve thinks that Aunt Deb would like this if she could see them now.

 

“This goes on top of the moat,” Steve explains to his niece, who puts in the flag a little clumsily; they've been working on a large sandcastle, and it's nearly finished.

Mary watches her daughter affectionately: “Well done, Sweetie,” she says, at which Joanie beams at her.

She then points to the flag: “Ag?”

“Yes, a flag,” Steve confirms. “Charlie made it. We've been building lots of castles recently, he's also got a Lego one at home.”

Mary regards him: “You and Danny spend a lot of time together, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh. That's nice.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just that I'm glad you've found someone.”

Steve looks up, pausing: “We're not romantically involved, if that's what you're implying.”

Mary cocks her head: “Really? Because one does get the impression that you two have gone from being surf buddies to... you know. Danny even did your laundry without having to ask!”

Steve's ears are turning pink at that. Mary grins: “See? You're blushing.”

Her brother waves his hand through the air dismissively: “People always assume that we're a couple just because we're close.”

“Aha.”

“No _aha_. We're close, end of story.”

“How close?”

“Mary-”

“I'm just curious. We never talk, how am I supposed to know what's going on in your life?”

“Maybe you should reconsider moving back here.” It's a sore point for Steve, actually, because he can't imagine how Mary is getting by in L.A., and he has no idea if she'd have people to turn to if anything happened to him.

Mary however isn't so easily distracted: “I'm fine where I am. So's Joanie.”

“Fine.” Steve shrugs, filling a bucket with sand: “You want to know about Danny? We've been through some tough shit together. We can rely on one another. Danny's saved my ass countless times and vice versa. He's loud and obnoxious and lovely and I trust him with my life. That what you wanna hear?”

“Sounds like a catch to me,” Mary teases him and squeals when Steve unexpectedly throws some mud at her. Inwardly, she's glad that Steve's got this amazing partner. And she's got an inkling how Danny ticks now that she's been on the receiving end of his caring side as well: he's got a big heart, and he's looking out for her brother. In her opinion, those two'd make a great couple, and they often behave like one, but if Steve is convinced that they are not... well. Fingers crossed.

 

That night, Steve takes a long time to fall asleep. Mary's words are reeling around in his head, and he wonders if she's right. If what Danny and he have is more than an amazing friendship. And what he's supposed to do or not to do now, because he isn't sure what will happen if he tells Danny all this. And if Danny knows. If maybe both of them have known for some time, deep down, but kept their feelings under lock and key.

He doesn't have time to dwell on these things for the time being however, because there are still so many things to do, concerning mostly legal matters and Aunt Deb's will, and then there's the hike up the mountain they've planned.

 

Mary and Joanie fly back to L.A. a week later. Steve takes them to the airport before work; when he returns home that evening, the house is strangely empty. He used to think that he likes to live alone, but it was nice to have someone else there: the silence is louder now that they are gone.

Steve looks around the living room for a moment, then he walks up the stairs to take a shower. Admittedly, it's not specifically his sister's presence he's missing.

 

It's already dark when there's a knock, then the front door opens and Danny comes in.

“Hey,” Steve greets him. “I was just getting a beer.”

“Sounds good,” Danny replies, following his partner into the kitchen. He seems a little hesitant, therefore Steve pauses: “Something wrong?”

Danny purses his lips: “I got a text from Mary earlier. She thanked me for everything and said that she'd volunteer Joanie as a flower girl if we 'ever made it official'.”

Steve, who's just opened the fridge, abruptly leans back to look at his partner, and his annoyed snort dies on his lips as he sees Danny's expression, which is almost wistful before he manages to arrange his face.

“You know,” Steve says softly after a moment, “Mary's been grilling me about that as well. I told her that most people assume we're together just because we're close.”

Danny nods, his eyes on his shoes: “Yeah. Yeah, I know. Why should it be any different with her, huh?” He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. So Steve closes the fridge again: “What if she's got a point?” he asks, regarding Danny with a small quirk of his lips.

Danny actually appears lost at that: “What?”

Steve's eyes wander over his face: “I kept thinking about it, after she brought it up...” He falls silent, unsure whether he should proceed. What if he misinterpreted the situation, got Danny's expression all wrong? But he usually reads his partner well, and what he saw just now... He steps closer to the other, who is avoiding his gaze again, and reaches for his hand: “Danno,” he says gently. “Look at me?”

Danny grimaces before he finally raises his head and meets Steve's gaze: “Yes?” he says, his voice brittle.

Steve regards him fondly:“Maybe she's got a point.”

“She...” Danny sounds strangled. “Do you know what you're saying?”

With his slightly shaking free hand, Steve cups Danny's face: “Well... I've been mulling it over for a week,” he says softly. “But I keep finding that she isn't so wrong about us. _People_ aren't so wrong about us.”

Danny closes his eyes and leans into the touch, at which Steve's thumb gently strokes over his cheek. Neither of them speaks until Danny opens his eyes again and looks up at Steve with a mixture of trepidation and something else- something which gives Steve the goosebumps. “It's what we do,” he murmurs, almost whispering, his eyes never leaving Danny's face. “Right?”

Danny draws in a small, trembling breath, then he reaches up and splays his free hand over Steve's chest, humming: “It's something I never have to think twice about,” he then replies equally softly. “With you, it's just... natural. Uncomplicated. It wasn't like that when I was actually married. Not for long, at least.”

He hesitates: “But you're my best friend as well. Steve...”

Steve, whose heart feels like it's going to explode in his chest any moment now, just beams down at him because it's so lovely that Danny doesn't want to risk their friendship. And while it seems paradox that he apparently loves Steve so much that he hesitates to jeopardize their current relationship for an actual relationship, Steve can still relate to that, and he appreciates Danny's reservations.

Therefore he gently covers Danny's hand with his: “I know,” he says. “But maybe we could go on a date? See how that goes?”

Danny nods, his eyes on their hands, before he looks up at Steve: “Okay.”

Steve is relieved. With slow motions, he pulls Danny into his arms; surprisingly, it is the first hug they share, just the two of them, since Aunt Deb died. And already, Steve finds that he doesn't actually want to let go again.

 

They agree to go on their date on Saturday, which seems an eternity away since it's only Monday. Steve is a little apprehensive on the following morning, but things are as usual. Danny smiles at him as warmly as he's always done- well, unless Steve's doing something he doesn't approve of, and they quickly fall back into their usual routine. Even the hitherto strictly platonic casual touching doesn't change because it's just _what they do_ , so at the end of the day Steve thinks that he's beginning to understand why everyone operates under the impression that they're a couple. They really do behave like one.

Apart from that, it's good to be back at work for a multitude of reasons: he's around Danny and his ohana, he's being distracted from his grief, and time flies by faster while he's busy. And admittedly, he loves his job.

 

On Wednesday, Danny and he are on their way to talk to and possibly arrest a witness turned suspect when Steve brings up the topic of their date again: “I've got an idea where to go on Saturday. It's black tie.”

Danny looks at him: “That fancy? Do they put pineapple on their pizza and call it something French?”

Steve grimaces at him: “ _They_ don't even make pizza.”

“Huh. But you don't like to wear ties.”

“No, I don't. For you, I'd wear one though.” Steve beams at him.

Danny fidgets in his seat: “Shouldn't we rather go somewhere we're both comfortable?”

Steve shrugs: “I won't be uncomfortable.”

“But what if you are and it'll ruin the mood for you?”

“Stop worrying, Danno.”

“I'm not worrying, I'm just pointing out-”

“-what could go wrong.”

Danny closes his mouth, then he nods, pursing his lips: “You're right. Sorry.”

“Don't be- you're my favourite curmudgeon. And it wouldn't be you if you didn't worry.”

“How long did it take you to learn and memorize that word?”

“Curmudgeon? Not long at all. I just looked up synonyms for Danny Williams.”

“Funny,” Danny mutters as Steve pulls up at the curb.

Steve grins: “And I didn't even try...”

 

A few hours later, Steve opens his eyes to darkness and confusion. Moving is not an option, apparently, since he seems to be stuck: there's a heavy weight on his chest. He blinks, taking a moment to recall what happened: there might have been an explosion, but he isn't sure. His eyes close again too, so he allows himself to drift for a bit.

A voice calls his name, but it's feeble and sounds muted. Steve blinks: he's still trapped. Right. They were in a house... or maybe it was a larger building...

“Steve.”

He blinks again. “Danny?” It's hurts to speak, and he realizes that he can't breathe properly, not with the elephant that seems to be sitting on him.

“Yeah. You there?”

“Hm. I'm stuck.”

“So am I.”

“What happened?”

“I dunno.” Danny sounds nervous. “You hurt?”

“Don't think so. You?”

“Maybe. It's just like the last time...” Danny laughs a little, which has a hysterical tone to it.

“Don't panic,” Steve says. “I'm here. I just can't get to you.”

“You're wheezing.”

“Nah... special effects.”

“Steve-”

“Hm?”

“You'd tell me if you were hurt, wouldn't you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Are you bleeding?”

“It doesn't feel like it.”

They are silent for a moment.

“Do you think we've got enough oxygen?” Danny then asks.

Steve automatically shrugs but quickly aborts the motion because that does hurt: “Probably.”

“That's not very reassuring.”

“Sorry.” Steve closes his eyes again.

“Steve?” Danny asks after a few minutes of silence.

“Hm?”

“I'd really like to kiss you right now.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I was just lying here, pinned under a building and minding my own business, when I realized that there are a lot of things I'd rather do right now-”

“You don't say.”

Danny ignores him: “... and it turns out that kissing you, surprisingly, is right on top of the list.”

“Huh. Well, that's good then.”

“How is it good when we can't even see each other?”

“It's good because I don't think I can wait until Saturday anyway.”

“You can't?”

“No, because who am I kidding? I love you, pretty much always have. I just didn't realize...” Steve falls silent. For a moment, the tons of concrete over their heads seem to weigh a lot heavier.

“And you needed another building to collapse on us in order to do so?” Danny then sighs. “You _could_ have had that epiphany the last time it happened. Just sayin'.”

“Yeah, yeah. If you were here now, right next to me, I'd shut you up in a really good way.”

“Tease.”

They are silent again.

“Danno.”

“Yeah?”

“I'm glad we've decided to give this a chance.”

“Hm.”

“You still worried?”

“Yes. But wanting to kiss you is drawing level with it.”

“That is the most beautiful thing you've ever said to me.”

“It may have something to do with the current situation.”

“What, so you'll take it all back once we're out of here?”

“No, you jerk, I won't. I'm just saying that being trapped under a building with no immediate prospect of escape is a powerful catalyst.”

“It's awesome when you're using big words.”

“Bite me.”

“Gladly. Come a little closer, will you?”

Neither of them admits that they are both flagging by now, and talking becomes increasingly difficult because they're only able to draw shallow breaths. But hearing the other's voice is something of a lifeline.

"Steve?" Danny rasps at one point, his voice barely audible. "Promise me this is the last time... we're doing this. No more... collapsing buildings."

"'kay," Steve's voice isn't much stronger, and it really hurts to speak now. "Promise."

"Also... promise... promise me you won't die."

The hysterical laughter dies on Steve's tongue because he doesn't have the energy for it and he's inhaling too much dust and his chest is killing him: "'course I won't..." he manages. "Gonna... kiss you. Promise."

 

 

When they are finally freed two hours later, they are barely conscious, rather worse for wear and unable to protest when they are being loaded into the waiting ambulances; kissing will have to wait.

They end up in the same hospital room, but both are unable to move out of bed unaided because among other things Steve's got two broken ribs which make his eyes stream if he so much as blinks, and Danny's left leg is in a cast.

“Waiting until Saturday would have been bad enough,” Steve says grumpily. “Now look at us.”

Danny regards him a little blearily: “At least we're both here.”

Steve sighs because Danny is lovely even when he's drugged up to the gills and one side of his face is full of scratches, but quickly aborts it when the pain in his ribs flares up viciously: “Yeah,” he replies softly. “You're right.”

“We'll have that date later,” Danny now mumbles, “couldn't have danced like this anyway.”

“You wanted to dance with me?”

“'s lovely, dancing with you.”

With that, Danny's eyes close. Steve looks at him for a while longer, unaware of his what his partner'd call 'goofy' expression: Danny's something else, that's for sure.

Well, he knew that before the rollercoaster ride of the past few weeks, but somehow, it did serve as a _catalyst_.

Maybe it's the meds, or maybe Steve's just relieved that they've gotten out: in any case, his eyes are a little moist as he now turns his gaze towards the ceiling with a smile: “Mahalo, Aunt Deb.”

 

The End

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I'm not a Native Speaker, therefore I apologize for any mistakes!


End file.
